


Lazy Sundays

by IntoTheRiverStyx



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Body Worship, M/M, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx
Summary: They had fallen into their Sunday routine a few months ago, and had never really spoken of why they kept making plans they knew they weren’t going to keep in favor of spending the day on the couch.-Straight-up belly and fat worship kink. If it doesn’t sound like your thing, it more than likely isn’t. I make no apologies. Modern AU.





	Lazy Sundays

**Author's Note:**

> No beta reader, so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Sunday. Three in the afternoon. They had made plans to go out, but decided to stay at Thor’s apartment instead. Not that Loki was complaining. Restless, but not complaining. Besides, Thor’s collection of video games was much more impressive.

Loki gripped the controller a bit tighter in concentration, determined not to die so close to the end game. That leaderboard spot was his, dammit.

Thor sat next to him on the couch, giving the smaller man enough space to focus, uncharastically quite.

“YES!” Loki whooped. Game over. He lived. Top leaderboard spot was his. Next round started in thirty seconds, ten seconds to pick if he was going on to join his team.

“Mind if I keep playing?” Loki asked, not looking over. He knew Thor was quiet because he was eating. A muffled affirmative told him Thor hadn’t considered stopping long enough to actually start talking.

Loki rolled his eyes as if to say, You glutton, but they both knew he loved the aftermath. They had fallen into their Sunday routine a few months ago, and had never really spoken of why they kept making plans they knew they weren’t going to keep in favor of spending the day on the couch. Thor has mentioned, once, he liked watching Loki play, and Loki welcomed the change to game for hours uninterrupted.

Three slipped into 4, then closer to 5. Loki was still playing, Thor was still snacking. Loki knew if he looked over, he’s seen the effects on his boyfriend’s belly, the thing swelling out in front of him. He wouldn’t mind, exactly, but he’d lose his leaderboard spot.

“What do you want for dinner?” Thor asked between matches. Loki shrugged, an invitation to order whatever Thor wanted. Loki just wanted to watch Thor eat.

This was their favorite Sunday afternoon routine - Thor watched Loki game, Loki watched Thor eat.

Thor tapped his phone screen for a few minutes, then put it down. “DInner will be here before 6, but that’s all GrubHub can promise.” Loki didn’t respond, but Thor knew he’d heard him.

Twenty minutes later, Thor stretched. The swell of his guy from hours of snacking caused his shirt to rise up a bit, exposing soft, pale flesh. Despite himself, Loki glanced over. The television made the KO sound, his character had 15 seconds until respawning.

“Fuck,” Loki swore. Thor grinned. 

“Did I distract you?” Innocent, though fake, the cunning asshole. Loki groaned.

“Bastard.”

Thor laughed. “I’ll make it up to you after dinner.” A promise, one Loki would take full advantage of the moment he could.

Loki stole one more long glance, noting how tight Thor’s shirt was against his gut. The thing seemed to be limitless in its ability to expand. The shirt, no as much.

“You better,” Loki managed to growl before returning the attention to his game.

Another thirty-six minutes, not that either of them were counting, and the doorbell rang. Thor felt a rush of cold air as he stood, heard Loki unleash a string of curses.

“Finish your round, I’ll grab some napkins and beers as well,” Thor instructed him.

He returned with two large pizzas, six cold beers, a stack of napkins, and what looked like a dessert box.

Loki declined to join the next match. 

Thor places one pizza in front of Loki and the other on his lap. They folded the back of the middle seat down to rest the beers and dessert box. Thor produced a bottle opener from somewhere Loki missed and popped two open. Loki nodded his thanks, taking a single slice from his box.

Thor had ordered a cheese pizza for Loki, thin crust, just the way he liked it. Loki dared to appraise Thor’s dinner - it looked like three or four different types of meat and extra cheese. Regular crust?

Thor was already well into his first slice by the time Loki managed to take a bite of his first one. Loki knew Thor hasn’t expected him to eat more than a slice or two - Loki’s appetite seemed almost non-existent next to Thor’s, but if Loki had to guess the leftover pizza served as Thor’s Monday breakfast.

It had started innocent enough - maybe nine or ten months into their relationship, Thor has spent the night at Loki’s. They’d planned on going hiking the next day. Thor has been going on about how much he missed it, and they decided to take that missing out of Thor’s life. Neither of them had done much besides work and socialize for business in what felt like years anyways.

Thor had had to dig hiking clothes out of the back of his closet, washed them, and threw them in a bag without really looking. The morning he tried to put them on, he discovered his pants were unable to even come close to buttoning. Loki had emerged from the shower to find his boyfriend struggling with the denim.

“Loki,” Thor had looked him dead in the eyes, “I do believe I’ve gotten a bit fat since the last time I went for a hike.”

Loki hadn’t laughed, as Thor had expected. His eyes went hungry, and Thor took a step back despite himself. 

A switch had flipped in Loki’s brain in that moment, taking in Thor’s body. His belly was rounder than his work clothes had alluded to, love handles hanging over the poor jeans. He’d put a shirt on, but it rode up in such a way that told Loki he hadn’t tried it on since he’d last work the jeans, either. He recognized the fabric, made for wicking sweat away. Loki knew Thor had been a jock of all sports type in high school and college, but had stopped a few years before they met. It was on display, how lazy the larger man had become since office work became the bulk (heh) of his life.

And gods, Loki wanted more of the man than he knew.

Thor has been self-conscious at first, if for no other reason than the attention was new. They’d fucked plenty of times, but it had always been a wild and untamed thing, fast, hot, almost careless. Not this slow, appreciative, almost poetic recount of his softness, contrasted with the smaller man’s sinew and sharp angles.

It hadn’t taken long for both of them to grow used to the slowness, though. Sure, the hot and fast and careless was still there, but instead of being a full speed ahead thing, it was almost like a pendulum, fast, slow, fast, slow.

Sundays were always slow.

Loki shook his head slightly, refocusing on the scene unfolding in front of him. How long had he been reminiscing? Long enough for Thor to have started working on his third slice, and second beer. Fuck, the man could put it away. Loki had managed to finish his first slice, and picked up another one, if for no other reason than to keep his hands busy so Thor could focus on eating.

Thor leaned back and wiggled a little bit, his stomach so swollen he had to unbutton his pants. He chuckled as his gut surged forward, shirt riding up with the motion. He patted the thing and chugged the rest of his beer, opening another one.

Loki made a soft, strangling noise and Thor looked over.

“You approve?” Thor asked.

Loki managed a laugh, “No shit,” was all he said before he decided to add, “Keep eating.”

“Yessir,” Thor smiled, shoving more pizza in his face. 

There was no way Thor’s stomach didn’t hurt, was there? Loki knew Thor’s pain face, and he wasn’t making it, or even looking like he might make it. He was just...eating.

Loki could remember when Thor’s gut was barely noticeable outside of their Sunday routine. That had been before, though. Before they’d actually talked about it. Before they both discovered how comfortable they felt with Thor expanding and Loki worshiping the new fat that had found a home on his boyfriend. They’re celebrated their second anniversary just shy of three months ago. Thor has worn a tight button-up to their anniversary dinner and had let Loki order for him. Thor ate every bite, the buttons turning into something obscene, and Loki had nearly came in his dress slacks.

Thor, for as much as he could talk, was much better at showing Loki just how comfortable he was with what Loki had for so long thought was more his fetish. Loki supposed something about their anniversary dinner had snapped something in Thor, too, because the next day Thor texted him My work pants are digging in and I think my shirt might rip if we do many more dinners like that. Loki had dropped his phone in the middle of the communal office kitchen. The text was too perfect, too hot. He spent a quarter of his lunch hour jacking off as quietly as he could before texting back: I’ll send you some dinner tonight and see if we can’t get you out of that shirt sooner. Why he hadn’t thought of sending Thor dinner before was beyond him.

It was still a careful, calculated thing, since they both knew they had to work Monday through Friday and Thor liked to eat until he felt like he might never stand up again, and while the thought of Thor ripping his work shirt drove Loki wild, there was some level of lingering professionalism that kept him from pushing that fantasy into reality.

Thor groaned, pulling Loki back to the moment. Six slices, three and a half beers. Two slices left, the last half a beer currently working its way down Thor’s throat.

“I think I over-estimated this pizza,” Thor admitted, putting the box on the folded-down seat next to him. Loki was on his knees before he realized it, taking in Thor’s overt display of carefully wiggling into a position where he could give his gut more room. The thing was huge, tight, bloated well past Thor’s normal waistline - the rise of his shirt attesting to how much he’d crammed in there.

Loki cleared the center console in what felt like one swift movement. It folded back up with a snap. Thor reached to the armrest side of the couch, finding the recliner button. It was a smooth, electric recline that eased him back. His normal beer gut looked like a goddamned beach ball, perfect and round and probably ready to pop. 

“You look divine,” Loki purred, carefully positioning himself next to Thor in a way he could have his hands all over the man without compromising his view.

“I feel fat,” Thor grunted, both his hands on either side of his gut, rubbing mindlessly.

“You are fat,” Loki informed him as if it was news, “Fat and round and ever expanding.”

“Tell me about it,” Thor goaded him.

“You’re so fucking fat,” Loki purred, swinging over Thor’s lap, straddling the larger man, “You look huge, babe, like you’re never going to button those pants again.” Loki could feel Thor was hard - that made both of them.

Loki ran his hands over the widest part of Thor’s gut. Thor moaned. Loki continued: “You look fatter every time we do this, and holy fuck, it’s amazing every time. You eat like you’re trying to find your outer limit, like you want to see how much you can put away before that damned shirt rips instead of rides up.”

“I want,” Thor panted, “to feel the weight of my gut on my lap. To watch how wild you get as it rounds out. To feel your hands over more and more of me.” Thor knew exactly what to say to get Loki to grind against him. They both made sounds more animal than human.

“You keep this up and I’m going to be stuck humping your belly because I can’t reach your dick,” Loki laughed despite himself. Thor hummed, a pleasing sound. 

“I’ll still be able to fuck you, rest this gut on your back. Crush you. Pin you just by laying on you, my fat against your sinew,” Thor teased, shaking his gut gently. Loki squeezed despite himself. Thor groaned, half-pain, half-pleasure.

“Thor,” Loki warned, voice low, “either we get to the bedroom now or I fuck you on the couch.”

“Fuck me on the couch,” Thor’s eyes were wild, “then you can feed me dessert.”

Loki cackled, their lazy Sunday speeding up.

Oh yes, Loki could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> After YEARS of not writing any fanfiction, I shed my old accounts and decide to start fresh. This is the first thing I write, go figure.


End file.
